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Thread: Just can't count on sheep

  1. #1

    Just can't count on sheep

    he sticks his tongue
    under the empty lid
    -just one more,
    one more sip, 1.5 more
    milligrams
    will cure the shaking hands;
    one more line to wrap around his mind
    would surely ease
    this worried man to sleep
    -or so he thinks
    ... or doesn't
    breathe-
    as the lines become a tether
    for promise and that scrawny neck
    connected to the bottles empt head
    to dance around in circles
    together,
    as the squares recline
    on the backside of his eyes

    [9:56pm]

    -it's far past their bed times,
    but just close enough for those
    with open minds
    and broken eyes
    to lend a scapegoat
    dressed in sheep's wool.

    he counted six sheep,
    and nine wolves
    that had resigned from trickery-
    rather love than eat;

    the mattress creeks
    keep me awake
    as the water spills from god-damned
    acts,
    all caught on film-
    and replayed and replayed and replayed
    as the membrane rips
    and the sheep's lips peel
    below the wolf's huffing and puffing-
    she squeals, and he feels
    it coming-
    the full collapse,
    the last piece of straw ripped
    from the batch
    as her eye rolls
    -without knowing whether to go back
    into her head,
    or to look down at the ground
    until his back stiffens
    and his abdomen has lifted from the shattered flower
    that he has pissed in.

    she wattled back into
    the picture
    after the frame had split her
    in two;

    [10:23pm]

    I was waiting at the doorstep
    on my forehead-
    foot tapping with my hand set
    on my endless face,
    as it ticked
    with ring finger
    pointing at the time
    she read in my eyes from miles away
    -but tried to ignore by looking at the floor,
    but couldn't
    because it reminded her
    of the time before
    the wolf sold her innocents
    for cents of worth
    she couldn't afford.

    I didn't say a word to her-
    only let her in the door;
    I knew the stench as soon as it spilled
    across the kitchen floor;
    I knew she walked the walk
    with crooked steps
    and talked the talk
    without a single breath;
    I knew her womb quivered in the words
    I hadn't even said-
    all by the way she held her tongue
    above the top button
    of her open dress.

    [11:41pm]

    we made love
    after she had finished throwing up-
    just to test the water
    bed she had shed after last nights
    sword prevailed over her shoulder blades,
    and erased what we'd become;

    I wore two o'clock
    like the prostitute's true thoughts,
    as she closes her eyes
    and opens them at the end of the ride;
    the clocks rim for a wedding band-
    that hadn't thought to tick
    after what she did to me

    -just can't count on sheep,
    because you never know who
    they're sleeping with;

    [12:58am]

    and she just laid in bed,
    filled the empty space beside my head,
    next to the only tally mark
    we had left-
    the one of two hundred we were pardoned with

    -on our best days, maybe 1.5
    while
    she's closing her legs to cover
    the wool-less stretch along her inner thighs
    -trying to smile,
    as she limps on through
    the white picket fence
    into the sleepy mine(d).

    [2:00am]
    po'ethics /
    abstanticollective.

  2. #2
    Compositional Standard Spoken's Avatar
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    Re: Just can't count on sheep

    muthafuckin long my friend....but a lovely read no doubt with excellent executions on keeping the reader entertained with such nice wording and emotion assortion for the right moment in the story man i loved how things came about and how you metaphorsed different emotions man. nicely done atti much love on this piece.

    he sticks his tongue
    under the empty lid
    -just one more,
    one more sip, 1.5 more
    milligrams
    will cure the shaking hands;
    one more line to wrap around his mind
    would surely ease
    this worried man to sleep
    -or so he thinks
    ... or doesn't
    breathe-
    as the lines become a tether
    for promise and that scrawny neck
    connected to the bottles empt head
    to dance around in circles
    together,
    as the squares recline
    on the backside of his eyes
    i loved the eye lid line shit was pretty thoughtful in a tastey manor of your interpretation ya know.... it could be like a needle pokin gthe eye or the pain...it hurts to look or some other angle of writing and in which i took from all aspects and turned out to be nicely fitted simple yet could mean oh so much ya know..props on that again atti.

    breathe-
    as the lines become a tether
    for promise and that scrawny neck
    connected to the bottles empt head
    to dance around in circles
    together,
    as the squares recline
    on the backside of his eyes
    this wasa nice one aswell.. i took it from your first stanza to show how simple your writing can be worded yet mean so many other things in other peoples eyes... nothing really threw me off...it was all placed fittingly in my read from your piece.

    she wattled back into
    the picture
    after the frame had split her
    in two;
    awesome metaphor right here... i remember using a such metaphor like this in one of my old pieces but you used this freshly still nice one here man...see simple and basic yet effective.

    -it's far past their bed times,
    but just close enough for those
    with open minds
    and broken eyes
    to lend a scapegoat
    dressed in sheep's wool.

    he counted six sheep,
    and nine wolves
    that had resigned from trickery-
    rather love than eat;

    the mattress creeks
    keep me awake
    as the water spills from god-damned
    acts,
    all caught on film-
    and replayed and replayed and replayed
    as the membrane rips
    and the sheep's lips peel
    below the wolf's huffing and puffing-
    she squeals, and he feels
    it coming-
    the full collapse,
    the last piece of straw ripped
    from the batch
    as her eye rolls
    -without knowing whether to go back
    into her head,
    or to look down at the ground
    until his back stiffens
    and his abdomen has lifted from the shattered flower
    that he has pissed in.
    this was my iffy part a bit ya know some seemed a bit...sorry to say but if not out of place then somewhat a bit forged in a manor for the story..though it wasnt anything big it was just to me shocking to find a part that took the bumpy road for a bit...ya know im used to your clean sleet writing...but this wow'd me a bit but went back on course man and finished nicely with this part...especially the flower pissed on part..lol...pretty real life there..lmfao. nice.

    and she just laid in bed,
    filled the empty space beside my head,
    next to the only tally mark
    we had left-
    the one of two hundred we were pardoned with

    -on our best days, maybe 1.5
    while
    she's closing her legs to cover
    the wool-less stretch along her inner thighs
    -trying to smile,
    as she limps on through
    the white picket fence
    into the sleepy mine(d).
    nice closer...you didnt force nothing to end..you brought it out nicely and put it with nice effort to close with ease and slowly with a purpose ya know...you rbroke it down big time in the whole story from start to finish that when it came to finish you barely even had to try it was like you just had to say what happened last with out even having to think of wording...and it would come to gether cus the story is already unfolded pretty much...lol... nice you didnt rush it off....probably to others i bet would leave a bit of a question mark for this ending...some readers i said some...not bad at all atti and im pretty much involved with this story man...nice shit my dude.

    http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...ve-335474.html
    ^^
    please hit that link atti?
    ARTIFICIAL | PO'ETHICS | INTELLIGENCE

  3. #3
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    Re: Just can't count on sheep

    Damn, this shit was long but i have to say it was well worth the read my man, you did an excellant job. The first part hooked me straight away and as it got further and further along it was drawing me in more and more. You had some pretty dope metaphors in there and your emotion and imagery was great, your choice of vocabulary was nice i thought, it didnt seem like you forced anything and it was more like you strooled in and out of the piece with ease, your imagination in here and the images recieved i have to say were very dope. Overall i have to say you did a dope job on this piece, thanks for the read.

    -Thomas.
    Legend.
    RB Original.

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  4. #4
    Conquering Lion Prince Escobar's Avatar
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    Re: Just can't count on sheep

    Brilliantly done Atticus, i'd hate to do this piece a diservice by leaving a brief response so i'll have to come back to this a few more times. I'll likely talk to you on AIM about it but this was a great concept and you pulled it off nicely.

    1luv.
    Laying face down in the mainstream.
    Po.Ethics.

  5. #5
        
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    Re: Just can't count on sheep

    i'm going to be the cool kid and not claim that it was long. nonconformist up in thisssss!!!.....right then..

    awesome concept. the theme of this along with the content were great i thought. only part i didnt like was how you showed the time of each stanza. its probably something that others might like about this piece but personally i would have liked to see you some how incorporate it into the stanzas themselves or have the reader assume the amount of time passing. probably just me, i dont like anything easy in poetry lol. nevertheless it was a cool read, unique and that always makes it enjoyable.


    it's far past their bed times,
    but just close enough for those
    with open minds
    and broken eyes
    to lend a scapegoat
    dressed in sheep's wool.

    he counted six sheep,
    and nine wolves
    that had resigned from trickery-
    rather love than eat;

    that part was definitely cool, one of my favorite parts.

    and she just laid in bed,
    filled the empty space beside my head,
    next to the only tally mark
    we had left-
    the one of two hundred we were pardoned with

    -on our best days, maybe 1.5
    while
    she's closing her legs to cover
    the wool-less stretch along her inner thighs
    -trying to smile,
    as she limps on through
    the white picket fence
    into the sleepy mine

    loved that ending. overall great read. much respect.

    peace
    The Last Level

  6. #6
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    Just can't count on sheep

    Nice job here enjoyable read the whole way out.. When I started reading I was thinking to myself this is just way the hell to long but you made sure you did not get boring at all good job for such a long piece.Metaphors and Rhyme wise it was on point the whole time.Emotion wise you made me feel and understand things of matter when needed.Imagery was also on point need I say.Vocabulary you seemed so aware of what you were saying,and it came very easy.Creativity wise you can tell by the tittle of this piece alone Just can't count on sheep and you proved it.Overall write wise great read didn't waste any of my time reading this.

    Wordz.

  7. #7

    Re: Just can't count on sheep

    thank you everyone.
    po'ethics /
    abstanticollective.

  8. #8

    Re: Just can't count on sheep

    mhm.
    po'ethics /
    abstanticollective.

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